Bloodstream
by hotvause
Summary: A recovering drug addict and her therapist; Alex Vause was the challenge Piper Chapman was looking for, and so much more. [Alex/Piper - psychologist AU]
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've been playing around with this idea since I started reading hospital AUs and thought I'd do something a little different. All mistakes are mine but the characters are not, I'm just playing around with them for bants. I've got a like 2 or 3 chapters already written so if you want the rest, review and let me know! (PS. I only have very limited experience when it comes to seeing a therapist and stuff and because no one else was ever supposed to see this I just went with the flow completely, don't get pissed if it's wrong.)

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><p><em><strong>Bloodstream<strong>_

**One;**

Piper Chapman sighs, eyes flitting up towards the clock on the wall every now and then as she craves for the end of her day to come. She loves her job, really, she does, but sometimes it's a lot. She's seen so many patients already today she begins to struggle matching faces to the names she crosses out in her work diary. She's a clinical psychologist and it's no walk in the park. It's demanding, it's exhausting and it's draining, but it isn't exactly what her parents wanted her to do, and a tiny part of her will always love the thrill of _finally _doing something that is her own choice for once.

They wanted her to be a normal doctor. They wanted her to work on a ward and nurse people back to physical health by pumping their bodies full of drugs that would prolong - but not fix - their lives. Piper didn't want that. Sure, she wanted to help people, but she wanted to go a little deeper. It feels more rewarding getting people back to psychological health. It's that little bit more difficult and you've got to work so much harder and she _loves_ it.

She fucking loves the challenge.

She's sitting at her desk; pen in one hand, mug of strong coffee in the other, as she waits for her last patient of the day, tiredness weighing her down to the point where she can feel her eyes slowly closing on their own. The things she'd do to be able to leave right now; go home, get a large glass of wine and spend the evening with a book and a blanket. Alas, she's here, in an office that is way too large inside a hospital that sounds and feels like a prison. Litchfield General is average to say the least.

She doesn't recognise the name in her work planner and she knows that isn't down to fatigue. This one's new.

New patients are her favourites. That's not to say she doesn't find comfort in the familiarity of her regulars, but there's something about newbies that makes her tick. It's the excitement of new stories to hear and a new person to help. New patients to her feel like Christmas presents to a small child.

Two simple words are written next to the large **6pm** in her diary. One simple name.

_Alex Vause._

Unfortunately, there's no hint as to whether Alex is male or female, which would make this whole thing a lot easier. She tends to find it easier talking to women for some reason. Perhaps because she grew up being taught that emotions were _just a girl thing_ or she finds it uncomfortable seeing men being so weak... She's not sure. But, yeah, she finds herself silently praying Alex is a she.

Her prayers are answered by a God she doesn't believe in when the sound of a hesitant knock ricochets around her office.

It's hesitant in that she sees a blurred figure through the frosted glass panel in the door about seven seconds before the person on the other side even attempts to make contact.

"Come in!"

It's hesitant in that her next patient takes a further six seconds to compose themselves before they even begin to open the door.

She hears the shaky exhalation of breath and witnesses vulnerability transform into hard indifference in the unfamiliar woman's dark eyes; obscured though they are by black-rimmed glasses and dark hair that flows down past her shoulders and frames her pale, porcelain features.

"Alex, right?" Piper says, glancing upwards, a smile tugging at her lips although for unknown reasons it feels like all the air has been knocked out of her lungs.

"Uh... Yeah..." Alex responds, eyes darting from each corner of the room to the next, already looking desperate to leave despite still standing in the doorway.

"Great, I'm Piper," the blonde tries her hardest to appear unfazed by the brunette's startlingly deep voice and ridiculous height. "Well, you might as well come and sit down, I don't bite."

Piper waves her hand in the general direction of the chair on the other side of her large desk. Alex's eyes shut for a moment as she releases a quiet but deep sigh. She isn't scared or nervous. Not in the slightest. You can see that just by taking a quick glance at her face. She doesn't scare easily at all.

Alex Vause is a cocky student being sent to the principal's office for something she feels no remorse for doing.

Alex Vause is a girl who gets caught drinking underage by the police and runs away laughing.

To put it bluntly, Alex Vause is someone who doesn't give a fuck.

She raises her eyebrows slightly before accepting the offer and sitting down heavily, resembling a petulant child being told to sit on the naughty step. She looks straight into Piper's eyes with a look that says _come on, let's see how good you are at your job_. Piper stares back, unwavering gaze locked on Alex's face and for the first time since she started this job she's speechless. (She's not really sure why yet, but we'll get to that later.)

"So, Alex, what brings you here today?" Piper begins quietly, using her best _I know why you're here but I want you to say it instead _voice.

Alex's face goes from bored to confused instantly. "Don't you already know that?" She laughs to herself quietly, it's a bad laugh, the kind of laugh you do when you're so fucking done. "I'm here because I need help... Apparently."

"By 'apparently' do you mean you're not here by choice?"

"No way," there's that laugh again. "This wasn't my idea at all. I'm fine, I'm recovering, I don't need this."

"Why are you here then?" Piper enquires, kind of astounded that Alex is actually talking to her, even though she isn't saying much. A part of her was expecting to be sitting here in awkward silence for the next hour.

That happens a lot at the beginning with new patients. A lot of the time they're just nervous about having a complete stranger ask about their deepest fears and darkest thoughts. Sometimes, however, some people care so little for their thoughts that they'll express them openly. Alex is one of those people. She knows life is short, but she doesn't care for most of it.

"People don't really like my coping techniques, I guess," She shrugs, dragging Piper away from her thoughts and back to the situation unfolding in the large, bright room they're in. "Apparently swapping drugs with drink doesn't really solve the problem, but hey, vodka's a hell of a lot cheaper than heroin."

_She has a point,_ Piper muses. She notices Alex falter for a moment as she looks down towards her hands, her fingers interlocking and thumbs dueling as if she's deep in thought or lost in a war against herself.

"You still drink?"

"Yeah, but it isn't a problem. I'm sober right now, and most alcoholics are never sober, so I'm winning in that respect."

Piper clears her throat, shifting in her seat slightly, resting her chin on a clenched fist.

"You said you're recovering?" Alex nods. "Why?"

"Uh… Because drugs are bad?" The brunette replies, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"No, no, no- Well, yeah, I mean, drugs are pretty bad, but that's not what I meant." Piper rambles, and Alex feels her lips tug at the corners upon noticing Piper uses her hands a lot when she gets carried away in conversation. "What made you choose recovery? What motivated you?"

"What made you choose this job?" Alex counters quickly, her sudden smug expression not faltering for a second, folding her arms tightly in front of her.

"You didn't answer my question, Alex."

"You didn't answer mine, _Piper_."

Piper ignores the shiver that runs up her spine at the way her name sounds when Alex says it; she was never too keen on her name, but now it's growing on her for some reason.

"Because I wanted to help people?" Piper replies, though it comes out as more of a question than an answer.

"No, it's deeper than that, you're an open book."

Alex likes to take control of situations when she feels she lacks it, it's a skill she mastered from a young age. She is manipulative and persuasive and it's pretty much the only thing she likes about herself.

"Uh... I erm..." Piper stutters a little, mind swirling and whirling with thoughts travelling a thousand miles an hour because _fuck_ Alex's eyes are fixed on her so pointedly it's the biggest distraction she's ever known. She can see green irises and perfect black eyeliner flicks beneath the lenses of her glasses and a part of her wishes she'd take them off so she can get a better look. She blames her scattered thoughts on tiredness though, of course. "I've seen what mental illnesses can do to people. That's why I do this. It scares me."

Alex nods, a certain look taints her features and it makes Piper release a breath she didn't realise she was holding.

"Then there's your answer," Alex shrugs, "I've seen what drugs can do to people. That's why I 'chose recovery', if that's how you want to put it. It scares me too."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Fucking therapy," the brunette scoffs, failing to compose herself as a deep sarcastic laugh continues to roll up her throat and off the tip of her tongue. "Why do people think that talking about your problems will make it any better?"

"Some people who are struggling with something in life find it helpful to get in touch with their feelings." Piper offers in response, and _God_ it makes her want to punch herself in the face. What a fucking cliché.

"Did it ever occur to you that we don't want to get in touch with our feelings? That actually feeling our feelings might make it impossible to survive in this world?

It isn't anger that she's feeling. Piper can see that in the way her demeanor doesn't shift an inch. Until the end, that is, when Alex sighs so quietly it's barely audible and her eyes lose the playful gleam when she closes them and opens them again. They're a little bit darker, too, because behind the indifference there is pain, veiled by a thin wall of defensiveness.

Right now, Alex is full of disappointment and frustration and an irreversible need to be anywhere but here, doing anything but this.

"In all honesty, I'm tired of all this therapy bullshit. I'm tired of things not killing me and only making me stronger. Now, are we done here?" Alex barks suddenly, shifting in her seat agitatedly.

"No, I-"

"Well, I'd like to be done. I haven't got anything else to say."

She goes to stand and Piper surprises herself with how desperate she is to make Alex stay. They've known each other for less than 15 minutes and Alex Vause is already a rollercoaster that Piper isn't sure she's ready to get off just yet.

"Please, Alex, don't go," It comes out like a plea and for the first time in a long time Piper feels so fucking _weak_. "Let me help you. Please."

Alex stops in the center of the room, back facing the blonde whose eyes currently resemble those of a terrified child. "What can you possibly do? You don't know anything about me or what I'm going through." She whispers, just loud enough to hear through the deafening silence engulfing them, though she's clearly in no rush to turn around.

"Then tell me," Piper responds in a heartbeat, shrugging slightly even though Alex isn't looking at her. "I want to know everything. You don't have to talk about yourself. Tell me about your mum… or your dad."

If anyone could see Alex in that moment, she'd kick herself for looking so vulnerable. She's biting her bottom lip to the point of pain to stop its relentless trembling; eyelids closing slowly and reopening with unbidden tears resting within, the liquid obscuring her view so the door in front of her fizzles beyond recognition; heart pounding excruciatingly against her ribcage so hard she wonders how on Earth it can't be heard out loud, just felt deep within.

_Don't do it. Don't let her in._

"No," Alex's voice remains quiet so it doesn't break. She turns her head a little, eyes fixing upon a slight blemish in the paint on the wall to her side, refusing to look directly at her therapist. "I'm done for today."

For a second, all is quiet. Then, suddenly, she can hear Piper's light footsteps growing closer behind her and her heart begins to thud even more forcefully.

The blonde approaches her carefully, like a timid child approaching a stranger, and places a card in her hand with the lightest of touches, careful not to make direct contact with her skin. "My cell number is on there, promise me you'll call me when you're ready and we can try again."

Alex nods slowly, fiddling with the card in her hand, toying with the sharp corners and wishing she could be folded small too.

And with that, she's gone, fast as lightening, bolting out the door and down the corridor so quickly Piper only hears a few hurried footsteps before all traces of Alex's presence have disappeared.

Suddenly, she feels cold. It's the kind of cold that accompanies loneliness on a dark night. It's the kind of cold she feels when she's overwhelmed by uselessness. She turns, makes her way to her desk and sits down heavily. Her face finds her palms once again as she leans her elbows on the hard wood, welcoming the darkness so forcefully she begins to see stars amongst the blackness of her vision.

Piper goes home feeling heavy that evening, weighed down by thoughts of the enigma that is Alex Vause.

Alex, on the other hand, goes home and drinks. She doesn't remember how she made it to bed when she wakes up the next morning, though when she regains some semblance of consciousness, she's slapped in the face with a memory of bright blue eyes and an incandescent smile that makes her stomach do a little flip.

And even she can admit it isn't down to the alcohol.

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><p>AN: it gets better, promise.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is actual trash, I'm not even gonna deny it, but the stuff I've already written seemed like it was moving too quickly when I read through it so I needed to pad it out a bit, even though this chapter is the shortest I've written so far. The vast majority of this was written in the early hours of the morning, so please blame any mistakes on tiredness and not my stupidity. It's actually pretty angsty but I felt like putting a bit of Alex's POV in just for bants so yeah.

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><p><span><strong>Two;<strong>

The following week comes and goes, and Alex still can't bring herself to make the call. She considers it. A lot. She types Piper's number into her phone enough times to almost memorize it off by heart, but falls at the last hurdle when it comes to pressing the call button.

Thing is, she can't decide if she wants Piper's help or not.

Sure, it must be great being happy and being able to live a fulfilling life without the aid of drugs and alcohol and flings, but Alex can't imagine having a life like that. She's been this way for so long now that sadness is where she's comfortable; she doesn't need help navigating through the darkness because she's content with not being able to see.

In the darkness, nobody else can see her either, and that's just the way she likes it.

She is a closed book, a locked door; infrangible against people who try to break the walls she so carefully constructed around herself. She's proud of her work, though sometimes it feels like the bricks are crumbling around her.

A previous therapist (the brunette has had her fair share) once asked her about her view on the world around her. He asked her _if your life was an inanimate object, what would it be?_

She replied instantly, voice as weak and helpless as her soul, _a broken vase. I'm the jagged piece that doesn't fit when you try to put it back together. I'm the reason you decide to throw it away. I'm to blame for the blood on your fingers._

That was three years ago.

Not a lot has changed, really, Alex is pretty consistent.

Her analogy is still relevant in her eyes; she is a shattered piece of something that was once strong and filled with beautiful things, with razor sharp edges that hurt if you get too close.

Though it's not all doom and gloom.

She's trying. She's _really _trying to be something more than the sad girl she's been since she was a teen. She just likes to do things at her own pace. Through accepting someone's help in a situation like this, you must open up in ways that terrify Alex beyond belief. Everyone she's ever opened up to has left. Well, she's only ever opened up properly to one person. Her mum. But still.

Alex's relationship with her mum had the potential to be something most teenage girls dream of. Diane Vause did everything she could for her daughter, working a copious amount of jobs at a time just to keep food on the table, although that often meant she wasn't around when Alex left for school in the morning or when she got home that evening. That was difficult to handle, because although Alex rather likes being alone, she isn't all too keen on being lonely.

In this day and age, you would've thought Diane's absence in Alex's life when she was growing up would've prepared her for the impending loneliness she'd be subjected to as an adult.

In this day and age, you would be wrong.

Because sitting at this graveside in this cemetery right now, Alex couldn't have felt any lonelier.

She visits her mum's grave a lot, always with a bunch of flowers in hand and usually a few thoughts to share. She's not naïve enough to think her mum can hear her, she gave up on the idea of heaven and hell fairly quickly after it happened; silently praying it was all bullshit and that deceased relatives don't stay with you once they're gone, as Alex has done many things she _knows _her mum would not be happy about, she just finds comfort in knowing that although her mum can't respond, she can still voice her thoughts out loud. It's a bonus that no one will reply, really, because she never did like being shouted at as a kid.

Missing her mum comes in waves, and right now she is drowning.

Despite the tsunami of unbidden emotions hurtling towards her on a daily basis, she doesn't cry. Alex Vause cried about her mum's death only once: when it happened. Since then, no more tears have been shed over something that can't be changed. Or at all, really, it's like all her tears have been used up and there's just this dry, hollowed out shell of a person left behind. Sometimes she feels like when her mum died, she took a bit of her soul with her.

Alex doesn't feel anymore.

She often thinks that's what her problem is; she can't feel the prick of the needle so she keeps injecting, she can't feel the pleasure of mindless sex so she keeps having it. It's a never-ending cycle of self-destruction, a pathway on a dark night after all the streetlights have gone out.

The cemetery is quiet this evening, except for a few people dotted around the vast expanse of graves, and the only sound that can be heard is the autumn breeze rattling through the tree leaves that are clinging onto life by a thin thread. She feels oddly relaxed despite being so overwhelmingly surrounded by death. The sky is turning a sinister shade of never-ending blackness, and the threat of rain hangs in the air, but the brunette is stuck, lacking the energy to do anything except just _be_.

She feels her phone vibrate in the pocket of her skinny jeans, the familiar text tone breaking the heavenly silence, a single name appearing upon the bright screen.

_Nicky__ -  
>If you don't make another appointment, Vause, I'll fucking make one for you. Be a big girl and do it.<em>

Just under two months ago, Nicky had arranged the first appointment after a night when Alex had been particularly reckless; the tiny needle marks still visible in the crook of her pale arm enough proof of her need for help. She nearly died that night. The brunette can't remember much of what happened, can't even remember what made her do it, all she remembers is going from a feeling of weightlessness, to drowsiness, then to nothing.

She hasn't touched heroin since. But _fuck, _she wants to. She wants it so bad her veins _burn_ for it. The constant yearning for it clings to her like an obsessed lover. The rush of the hit and the way she wants more, as if she's being deprived of air — that's how it traps you. She can't think straight most of the time, and no amount of alcohol or sex can provide the same level of exhilaration she used to feel when she got her fix.

Alex hadn't spoken to Nicky about how her first therapy session with Piper had been, but they've been friends for a while, and Nicky knows how stubborn the brunette can be when it comes to accepting help. The thought of another therapy session fills Alex to the brim with equal amounts of dread and unease, but there's a tiny little glimmer of an emotion bubbling beneath the surface, one that feels like excitement and sounds a lot like eagerness, that spreads like wildfire through every molecule of her being when she finds her therapist's card in her back pocket once again.

_Piper Chapman._

The brunette reads the name over and over again until the words cease to have any meaning; says it out loud and likes the way it feels on her tongue.

She slowly begins to dial the worryingly familiar set of numbers for what is probably the tenth time that day.

She's going to do this. She _can _do this.

This time, she finally has the balls to press the call button.

All she can hear is a dial tone somewhere underneath the sound of her heart beating thunderously inside her.

It rings and rings and Alex almost hangs up.

Then the harsh sound ends and for a split second it's silent.

"_Hello?"_

She almost forgets how to breathe then; the action stops being innate and it suddenly feels like there's no air in the atmosphere anymore.

"Hey," it comes out in a rush of breath like she's just run a marathon.

"_Alex?"_

Piper's in her apartment right now; nestled in an armchair with a book and a glass of wine and everything is calm and collected and just how she likes it.

Until it isn't.

She suddenly has a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, like when you're swimming and you want to put your feet down on something solid, but the water's a lot deeper than you think and there's nothing there to keep you up.

"_Is that you?" _Stupid. Of course it's her. That deep, sultry voice has been etched in her memory since the first time she heard it. _"Are you okay?"_

"Uh… Yeah… I think." The brunette stumbles over her words, mind and heart running so quickly she begins to forget why she even called in the first place. "I wanna have another session."

"_Okay. Great." _

"When can I see you?"

"_Whenever you like."_ Piper ignores the fact she has a pretty busy schedule. She ignores the fact her diary is already pretty full. She ignores pretty much everything except the beautifully flawed mystery of a woman on the other end of the line.

"Um… Wednesday?" It's the first day that pops into her head. It's not like she's busy. The cartel dropped her pretty abruptly when she started using.

"_Wednesday." _The blonde replies, overwhelmed by a feeling of utter relief.

"Okay." A beat. "I'll see you then." A glance at her mother's gravestone. "Bye."

"_Yeah. Bye."_ There's a click as the line breaks and then she's gone.

The blonde returns to her book, focus dwindling so much that the letters jump around the page because she can't shake off the memory of how Alex's voice shook like a frightened little girl's and how she wanted to hear her speak again as soon as she hung up.

She downs the remaining contents of her glass and heads towards her kitchen in search of the rest of the bottle of red to quell the nerves rattling in her bones.

It is then, on that chilly October evening, that she feels the first strain of attachment tug at her heartstrings.

It is then that Piper Chapman realises how well and truly _fucked_ she is.

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><p>AN: Chapter 3 has already been written, that'll be up in no time.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hi again, I'm so pleased with how well this story is going down with everyone, seriously didn't think I'd have this kind of response, thanks so much for the reviews so far. I know I only updated last night but this was already written so I thought I might as well just post it now. I'm not sure when the next update will be, even though it's half term I've got so many college assignments to do so I won't have much time to spare until this weekend at the latest. It all starts to move a bit quicker from now on, I know where I'm going with this for at least the next few chapters so I'm hoping everyone will enjoy what's coming up.

Reviews would be cute as frick xo

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><p><span><strong>Three;<strong>

It's just under a week later that they see each other again.

Five days, to be exact.

Five long, excruciating days of over-analysing possible situations and praying that Alex doesn't decide to cancel at the last minute.

But she doesn't, so here Piper is, 6pm on a rainy Wednesday, sitting at the same desk in the same room of the same hospital thinking about the same patient. _Always_ the same patient.

Alex hasn't changed much since the last time they met; she'll probably always be secretive and mysterious and the challenge Piper has been craving since she started this job.

"I didn't think you'd call, if I'm honest."

"Oh, believe me, I wasn't going to."

"What made you change your mind?"

Alex smiles a little, then. Only slightly, the corners of her full lips pulling up to reveal a hint of teeth. It's so timid, and so endearing that Piper can't help but sit there and allow her brain to be flooded with thoughts of Alex as a little girl, all ponytails and timid smiles and naivety.

She never does answer that question truthfully.

Only shrugs, mood dipping slightly again, "nobody likes a quitter."

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><p>Their sessions continue like that for a while.<p>

Alex will arrive promptly but will never be the one who talks first, almost like she's afraid starting a conversation will mean there is no escape.

After a while, she'll soften slightly, answer Piper's questions, and engage in small talk, even make a few sarcastic remarks here and there at the blonde's expense.

Then suddenly something will switch; the change in her mood clearly visible in her eyes. She'll say something too deep, reveal something too serious, and she'll stop. She'll turn cold, she'll close up, and she'll leave in a fluster. Always.

Piper learns after a while that many things trigger that kind of reaction within Alex.

It happens every time the topic of conversation edges towards her childhood; how her mother worked multiple jobs and was never around; how she was bullied for not having all the things all the other girls had. Alex very rarely talks about her childhood, but when she does, it's like she's back there. She utters the words _when I was a kid_ or _when I was at school_ and Piper can see her fall apart right before her very eyes. The winged eyeliner and leather are being stripped back and beneath it all there's just this terrified little girl, pissed off and confused at the world because it's not turning out how she expected.

For a long time, Piper doesn't really understand why childhood experiences still hit Alex so hard.

And then, one day, she does.

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><p>That day starts off no different than any other where therapy sessions with Alex Vause are concerned. She walks in, face like thunder, and sits down heavily. Piper gets a feeling of dread in her stomach, the discomfort a little like the feeling you get when you realise everything is turning to shit and there's nothing you can do about it.<p>

Suddenly, Alex starts talking like she's rushing to get the words out before they stop forming. It's like a volcano has erupted somewhere inside her and the lava and ashes are filling up in her lungs and she needs a way to release them. She needs to get this fire off her chest.

"You know when you're a kid, and the whole time you're at school you're just there thinking, '_it's okay, this doesn't last forever'_ and you give yourself something to look forward to, something to get you through it all? Like, some kids think about taking a year to go travelling around the world before they start college or something…" There's a pause as Alex dares herself to go deeper, toys with the idea of clamming up and leaving as per, or being the grown adult she's expected to be and face up to the things that drag her down. "I had one of those things… just a little idea… I pictured it in my head every single day for years and it was gonna be so perfect and right…"

Alex inhales deep and slow, as if she's sucking in particles of courage from the air around her.

"Never did tell you about my parents, did I?" She asks non-rhetorically, looking up at Piper with a face painted with neither sadness nor anger, something the blonde finds difficult to comprehend.

"Nope, I asked one question about them and you left."

Though she'd never admit it, Piper spent a lot of time after that session wondering why Alex had fled so suddenly. Well, she spends a lot of time after _every _session wondering why Alex does the things she does. She worried she'd offended her, or tried to dig too deep, and silently vowed to never mention her parents again. Their weekly meetings had been going on for just over a month now, and Alex had barely uttered more than a few fragmented sentences per session in the past.

"I don't have any parents anymore," the brunette states simply, holding on to her composure with all her might. "I had a dad for about ten minutes. I had a mum, but she died nearly five years ago. I don't like talking about her though. I don't want to talk about her."

Piper swallows deeply, eyes wide. "Talk about your dad then."

Alex sighs. "My mum always used to tell me he was this really famous drummer in some rock band no one had ever heard of. She used to say he loved me but was too busy to visit, and that whenever someone made fun of me for not having a dad, I should tell them that I'm the daughter of a rock God." She smiles ever so slightly at the memory, like she's watching the moment unfold in her head, (it's a scene she's replayed over and over again ever since that day.) Then her brows furrow, and she shakes her head at her younger self. "Looking back, I can't believe I fell for it, but my comeback game was weak as fuck and I needed some ammunition, you know?"

Piper wants to laugh at that. But Alex doesn't. So she doesn't either.

"I vowed to myself that when I left school and I was free to do as I wished, I'd find him. Because, _of course_, my mum would never lie to make me feel better, and _of course_ he was mega famous and loved me." The brunette outwardly cringes in embarrassment and begins to look as though she's toying with the idea of leaving it at that.

"You found him, didn't you?" Piper thinks fast, desperate to keep Alex here and talking.

Alex nods slowly in response, withholding the rest of the story.

"Not what you expected?"

"Understatement of the century. I was expecting a knight in shining armour to save me from the woes of my youth, right? I got a fucking dick in tin foil who had no idea who I was and complimented my tits."

Piper's face looks like she's been slapped with a hand full of surprise; eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, "you're kidding?"

"I wish I was."

Piper says nothing, knowing by the thoughtful glint in Alex's eyes that she's not finished yet. She continues with her eyes fixed at the tiny raindrops chasing each other down the window just to the left of Piper's back, focus occasionally shifting to Piper's face just to make sure she's still listening.

"It killed me most because it was all just a fucking lie. I was so angry at everything after that. I was angry at my mum for lying to me for all those years, angry at my dad for being such a fucking waste of space junkie, but mostly I was angry at myself for falling for it. Is that stupid?"

"No," Piper interjects confidently. "It makes perfect sense. The thought of him is what got you through all the shit you had to deal with and you thought he'd be your escape at the end of it all. I get it, you think about how perfect something is going to be and you play it all out in your head expecting it to go exactly as you've planned. But it doesn't. And nothing really prepares you for how it _does_ go."

"Because you never consider the possibility that something so seemingly brilliant can turn to shit like that."

The pair share an unwavering gaze that makes something shift deep inside both of them; emerald green boring into deep blue, a broken soul staring into one that is hopeless but hoping. It's a moment like many others: fleeting, and before they know it, they're quickly averting their eyes and praying to a God they don't believe in that they're not blushing.

"Don't tell me that's why you started taking drugs?"

"Fuck no! That bastard screwed up enough things in my life, I wasn't gonna give him the satisfaction of being the reason I nearly _died_." Alex exclaims incredulously, Piper smiling slightly in response to her outburst, amused for some reason despite the situation they find themselves in.

Truth is, she's never asked before why exactly it was that Alex started doing heroin. Piper's found with other patients there are _usually_ two potential causes for their addictions.

One: it's a coping mechanism.

Two: it became available and they were intrigued.

A part of her once hoped it was the latter, but now she knows that's probably not the case. If Alex doesn't want to talk about her mum, Piper won't push her, but she can't help but feel like the puzzle is slowly coming together, piece by agonizing piece.

"Why are you saying all this now? Why not sooner?" The blonde asks, failing to hide her confusion at this sudden outburst.

"I feel like I didn't appreciate my mum as much as I should've when she was here, you know, with the whole 'searching for my long-lost dad' thing. I feel like I owe her an apology that I can't give her anymore."

There's something about Alex Vause that Piper cannot quite comprehend, and through trying to unravel the mystery of her, she finds herself beginning to care more deeply for the woman sitting opposite her, so profoundly it aches when their time together ends and she has to wait a whole week to be in her presence again. Alex is wise beyond her years and her intelligence is something Piper feels like she struggles to match. She is quick-witted and funny without trying, and so deeply intriguing it puzzles the psychologist to the point where she spends hours upon hours out of work distracted by thoughts of her patient.

And that, quite understandably, terrifies the fuck out of her.

Piper often finds herself doing something completely normal, then she stops, and wonders what kind of sarcastic comment Alex would make in that second. She wonders what she's doing at that moment; if she's with anyone or if she's having a good day or if she can't bring herself to get out of bed. It's the little things like that, really, the innocent little things. _This attachment is entirely innocent. It's because they're getting closer_. Sure, it doesn't happen with her other patients, but something about Alex moves Piper chemically more than anyone else she's ever encountered in her 29 years on this lonely little planet, and everyone else at the moment seems to pale beside her. But that'll all change, of course, it _has_ to change. One day, Alex will no longer need therapy and Piper can go back to actually caring about the other moments that take place in her life, and not just the stuff that goes down at 6pm on a Wednesday.

"We done for today?" Alex asks, already pulling her leather jacket up over her shoulders, flicking her dark hair out from the neck of it in a way that makes Piper wonder if it feels as soft as it looks.

"Yeah," the blonde replies quietly. "We're done for today."

"Next Wednesday at six?"

"Wednesday at six."

Alex leaves quickly, not even looking back when she closes the door softly behind her and pads down the hospital corridor towards the waiting room; the thoughts in her head tumultuous and overwhelming, and she can't help but feel so fucking _weak_ in that moment. The walls she built around herself are breaking and the façade is slipping, but deep down she knows they've barely scratched the surface of her messed up little world.

"Ready Vause?" Nicky asks the second her friend enters the little room, though she doesn't look up from her battered, outdated copy of the New York Times.

"You don't have to wait for me every time, you know?" Alex responds, feigning annoyance, though secretly relieved to know there's someone waiting on the other side.

"I know, but I want to," the bushy-haired woman sighs, folding her newspaper and throwing it atop the huge pile of magazines on the table next to her. She stands slowly, grabbing Alex by the arm and half-heartedly dragging her towards the exit. "C'mon, let's go eat, I'm fucking starving."

"But I need to go home quickly first-"

"You wanna be fuckin' kidding, Vause, or so help us both, I'll shove one of those magazines so far up your ass you'll be able to taste the ink." Nicky deadpans, her grip on Alex's forearm never relinquishing. "Food. Now."

* * *

><p>"So, how's it all going?"<p>

They found themselves in a cheap diner not too far from the hospital; Nicky practically drowning in a large plate of fries and the greasiest burger known to man, while Alex, on the other hand, has survived the day solely on thirteen cigarettes and a cup of coffee. She doesn't eat much anymore, hasn't for a while, but it's far too soon to add an eating disorder to the ever-growing list of things that contribute to how fucked up she is.

"How's what going?"

The diner is mostly empty, except for a few lonely old guys and kids seeking refuge after skipping school for the day, though Alex is so distracted by the things going on around her you'd think the place was packed. That, or she's just trying to avoid this conversation as quickly and successfully as possible. She doesn't like talking about therapy when she's not there. Fuck, she doesn't really like talking when she _is _there.

"Your weekly dates with your hot therapist, duh." Nicky states between mouthfuls as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I never said she was hot." Alex sighs, irritated, nursing her scolding cup of coffee with both hands as if she can't feel the china burning her palms.

"You didn't have to, it's written all over your face when you leave her office… like you're turned on and angry about it," Nicky throws a french fry at Alex to try and catch her dwindling attention and it lands in her coffee with a _plop_. Through maniacal laughter, she continues. "Besides, out of all the therapists you've ever had, she's the first whose sessions you've turned up to more than once, therefore she must be hot otherwise you wouldn't bother."

"First of all, you're an asshole, and you're buying me another fucking drink," the brunette rages, fishing the wet fry out of her cup and throwing it back so it lands in Nicky's wild mane. "And secondly, that is bullshit. I mean, fine, yeah, she's attractive, I'll admit it, but that's not the only reason I voluntarily see her."

"Then why do you?" Nichols asks, silently asking the girl at the counter to bring another coffee over then exaggeratedly leaning in with both elbows on the table.

"Piper's different, you know?"

"Because you love her?"

Alex's heart beats a little harder a few times.

"Because she's different."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello again, absolutely buzzin that people are still interested in this, it all starts to move a bit quicker from now on. This was supposed to be longer but I cut it into two because I haaaate overly long chapters so yeah. The next one should be up either Tuesday or Wednesday because those are my days off and they'll be spent doing my forensics assignments and adding to this. Please review, if you don't then there'll be no point in me continuing so it's up to you! Enjoy xo

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><p><span><strong>Four;<strong>

Everything after Wednesday is a bit of a blur for Piper; she doesn't really focus as much as she used to, finds it hard for her mind to settle on one train of thought before she gets restless and her musings travel back to an image of green eyes, glasses and leather.

It's quite pathetic, really, how much she thinks about Alex. It makes her feel sad and hopeless and like she's running down a dark tunnel with no light at the end.

She spends Friday night with Polly, drinking margaritas late into the night at a quiet bar she's been to a million times before in a desperate attempt to shake off her inhibitions and de-stress for a little while. These 'girls nights' are a regular occurrence, but it feels a little different this time, like something inside Piper has shifted when it comes to social interaction.

Because honestly, everyone else in the world isn't Alex Vause, and it turns out that's a huge problem for her.

This bar she's in is nothing new, it's always fairly cramped on a weekend, but even this setting feels different. She finds herself spending more time searching for a certain brunette in the crowds (though she knows Alex would probably never come here) than she does being an active participant in conversation. And, of course, Polly notices almost instantly.

"Sorry, am I boring you?"

Piper's attention leaves the hordes of people surrounding them and focuses on her best friend once more, "huh?"

"I was telling you a story, dumbass. Anyway-"

Polly carries on talking for some time; something about an argument she had with Pete and how much of an ass he's been lately or something – Piper stops listening after about three seconds, her friend's voice fading behind the white noise of voices and music around her. She loses herself for a little while, allowing waves of intoxication to overcome her until she's warm from the inside out and her head feels a little fuzzy.

"Hello? Earth to Piper? What's going on with this patient of yours? Alex, I think her name is?"

The blonde's cheeks must flush an embarrassing shade of scarlet at that, as Polly's face suddenly starts sporting a knowing smirk. Piper and Polly have been best friends since they were teenagers, they're so close that Piper can't remember what life was like before they met, and because of that closeness, Polly can read her like an open book.

All the fucking time.

"Oooh, I know that face…"

"No, Pol, it's not what you think."

"Pipes, I love you, but you can't lie for shit. You haven't stopped talking about this woman for over a month now, and when you're not talking about her you have this little faraway look on your face like you're _thinking_ about her instead."

Piper shrugs, her attempt at nonchalance proving to be futile when her blush doesn't falter, instead reddening when she starts to talk. "Look, she interests me. I've never met anyone like her before in my entire life."

"Is she hot? What does she look like?" Polly interjects, intrigued but not judgmental.

"Yes," Piper sighs, the alcohol in her system helping her along this path of admittance. "Black hair. Glasses. Fucking _tattoos._"

"Damn. Is she, like, butch then?"

"God no," the blonde giggles, slurring ever so slightly. "I don't even know if she's gay, to be honest."

"Oh, shut up, you must have some kind of idea."

"We've never talked about stuff like that. Besides, nothing can happen anyway, she's a patient, and I can't take advantage of her like that." Piper's eyes scan the room absent-mindedly once more, until her gaze gets stuck on two people entering the on the far left of where her and Polly are sitting at the bar. "Oh my fucking God."

"What?" Polly asks, following the blonde's stare to find two women; one of them resembling the description she's just given. "Noooo!" She exclaims in disbelief, spinning back around to face Piper and slap her lightly on the arm. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

Piper pretty much dies on the spot at that moment.

She can't take her eyes of Alex. So much so, she barely notices she has someone with her until the bushy-haired woman to her right says something and Alex elbows her and laughs. That's the first time she's ever seen her laugh, and it catches her off guard just how fuzzy it makes her feel inside. Alex laughing is a sight Piper never knew she needed to see until she saw it, and she's fairly certain now that she'll never be able to unsee the way she laughs with her eyes as well as her mouth. Alcohol or no alcohol, she is well and truly fucked when it comes to her emotions right now. It literally feels like all the air has been sucked out of her lungs and suddenly the room is spinning at a hundred miles an hour and she can't stop it. Alex hasn't noticed her yet, but if she turned her head slightly to the left they'd be gazing at each other. That thought is slightly alarming to say the least.

Piper swallows deeply with great difficulty considering how dry her mouth has suddenly become. "Fuck," She inwardly sighs, taking a large swig of her margarita in an attempt to calm her nerves. "Oh God, help me."

"You are fucked." Polly states simply, a small giggle escaping.

"Hide me. Oh God, hide me." Piper whispers, voice barely audible above the muffled voices surrounding them. She tries to look away and hide herself behind her friend, but every time she looks away from Alex she feels cold and needs to look back to ignite the fire inside herself once more. "Just say something, talk to me, at least that way if she sees me she'll think I haven't seen her."

"You are such a loser," Polly laughs, shaking her head in disbelief at how her normally calm and collected best friend has miraculously morphed into this love-struck little mess. She does as Piper says, disgruntled. "I wanna meet this woman, see what it is about her that's got you all flustered!"

"Stop turning around! You'll draw attention to me!"

"Ha, don't flatter yourself, you're not _that _hot."

* * *

><p>Piper manages to go a good seven minutes without looking at Alex again, but she doesn't forget about her, not for a second, not even when she has a few more margaritas and she begins to feel the beat from the music rattle in her chest. Polly gets up at some point to go to the bathroom, but Piper barely has time to worry about being left on her own, because when she leaves she notices Alex isn't there anymore. For a moment it confuses her, as if people go to a bar just to spend all night by the door, but in her drunk little heart she can't help but feel a bit empty now she can't see the brunette. She's hit the level of attachment every girl reaches at some stage, one that is made a whole lot worse by alcohol - the feeling of being both filled with love and empty because of it, neither happy nor sad, mostly numb.<p>

It suddenly registers in her hazy mind just how exhausting it is to feel everything and nothing at the same time.

She lifts her glass up to her lips only to find it's empty.

"Ah, fuck… Excuse me! Hi," she grabs the attention of the nearest barman, tapping her glass on the counter and shouting over the music. "Can I get another margarita please?"

Piper can barely register the fact the barman isn't listening to her, let alone notice a tall brunette leaning against the bar next to her, eyeing her up in the most shamelessly animalistic way.

"It's little cold out for a margarita, don't ya think?"

Alex's voice sounds like judgment tainted with a hint of danger, but fuck, if the deep, sultry tone doesn't run its way up the blonde's spine when she hears it. Piper's heart pretty much drops to the floor at that point, her head turning as slow as humanly possible just to give her time to process what she's going to say in response.

Of course, she says nothing, just stares blankly, mouth probably agape as Alex smirks at her; lips a deep shade of red and green eyes dazzling impossibly brighter despite the dimly-lit room they find themselves in.

"Hi," the blonde replies simply, voice a few octaves higher than expected.

It is then that Piper decides Alex Vause is nothing less than a goddess.

Clad from head to toe in black (of course), a loose-fitting v-neck top hangs low enough at her chest to reveal a tiny bit of cleavage, while her black skinny jeans hug her legs tightly in all the right places. Her dark hair frames her face beautifully, cascading down past her shoulders and curling slightly at the ends - a stark contrast to her flawless, pale skin.

"Where did your friend go? I saw you when I first walked in earlier but I didn't wanna interrupt anything." Alex slurs, her intoxication apparent in her wide smile that is so unfamiliar to Piper.

She can usually handle her drink quite well, she's pretty much built up a tolerance to most alcohol in the last few years, but tonight was all Nicky's idea and they've allowed themselves to lose it a little. They were already relatively smashed when they walked in the place – pre-drinks became normal drinks until they decided to move somewhere a little more exciting than Alex's apartment. The lights in the room begin to splinter a little, and most faces fade into a blurry haze when she focuses on them for too long, but not Piper's. She pictures her face in her mind far too often to ever let it fade into nothing; each and every smile and furrow of brow etched into the back of her brain.

Alex pays for Piper's drink when the bartender slides it over the bar, and when she passes the glass to the blonde their fingertips graze against each other for a split second and it feels to them both as if the world has stopped spinning. It really is the most irritating cliché in the history of clichés, but Alex feels like it's just her and Piper in the room all of a sudden, the music becomes silent and all the nameless, faceless people around them disappear into empty nothingness.

In that moment, and many more to come, everything else is just background.

Piper clears her throat quietly in a futile attempt to compose herself. "Uh… I… Bathroom. My friend went to the bathroom." Her eyes don't leave the brunette for a second, she doesn't even blink, she just sits there like a deer in headlights as Alex takes a seat at the stool where Polly was once sitting and takes a sip of her own drink. "What about your friend?"

"Oh, so you did see me walk in?" Alex asks, smirking in that infuriatingly smug way she always does.

The blonde opens her mouth slightly, almost as if to tell her that _of course _she saw her; her presence affects her just as much as her absence does, just at different ends of the scale. When they're together, she's happy. When they're not, she's numb. Obviously, she decides against that, opting for just a timid smile and shrug.

"She left me for another woman," the brunette explains, scanning the room once or twice for her bushy-haired best friend. "Literally, we were here for about five minutes and then Nicky spotted some girl she's been seeing recently and I haven't seen her since. Knowing her, she probably took the poor girl back to her place straight away."

"You don't strike me as the kind of woman to be at a bar on her own."

"I'm not on my own, I'm with you."

Before tonight, Alex Vause had given up on attachments. She didn't like how vulnerable and exposed emotions made her feel, so she decided not to feel anything, and after a while the numbness surrounding her actually felt really comfortable. After all, the best way to avoid getting your heart broken is to act as if you don't have one.

But then, with no warning or time to run and hide, Piper Chapman snuck inside the deepest crevices of her battered old soul and changed all that. Alex feels so much it overwhelms her entire being.

And right now, sitting on this stool at this bar with this woman who is all sparkling eyes and iridescent innocence, Alex only feels love.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I am soooo sorry, I know I said on I'd have this up sooner but it just didn't happen, college has been absolute madness recently. I'm kinda proud of a few bits of this, but it certainly didn't end as I planned it to. The vast majority of this was written in the early hours of this morning so please excuse any typos or general bullshit sentences, I think most of it makes some sort of sense. I hope you enjoy it, anyway, and let me know what you think! xo

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><p><span><strong>Five;<strong>

If anyone had told Alex Vause that one day she'd find herself in a bar getting drunk with her therapist, she would've laughed in their face.

If they'd told her that one day she'd have feelings for said therapist, she probably would've punched them.

But here she is, intoxicated to the point of words that slur beyond recognition, and even she can't tell if it's down to the copious amount of alcohol she's consumed or the person she's currently consuming it with.

They're telling embarrassing stories, something Alex finds she has many of, and Piper's bright eyes are fixed on her own darker ones so pointedly she sometimes forgets to breathe while she's talking, "…which is also how I ended up with three broken toes and, briefly, chlamydia."

The blonde erupts into a fit of drunken giggles, shoulders rising and falling quickly with the effort of it and, subconsciously, she grabs Alex's wrist to steady herself as she loses her balance a little on the high barstool. Never in her life has the brunette been so thankful for dim lighting, what with scars that haven't quite faded tainting the otherwise flawless skin of her arms. She feels the beginning of a blush creep onto her cheeks too, and she finds herself hoping Piper hasn't noticed the way she shivers when their skin touches.

It is then, lifting her drink to her lips once more and peering skeptically over the rim of the glass, that she wonders if Piper feels the same; if she feels the connection pulling between the two of them, if she can sense the almost palpable tension in the air. Does she find it difficult to concentrate too? Is she also drowning in thoughts of what they could be if Alex was a little less fucked up and Piper wasn't so blatantly out of her league?

Alex's thoughts take a rather fanciful turn then, as she watches the blonde flick her hair over her shoulder in a way that somehow makes her look even more iridescent under the lights illuminating the bar; she wonders how Piper's skin would feel on her fingertips, dragging deliberately across prominent collarbones, and if her tongue would feel as soft against hers as it looks when it slips out to swipe against her bottom lip to catch miniscule droplets of alcohol.

She feels like she might explode.

Alex has never been in love before. All those other girls - the ones she'd pick up in bars, fuck until the morning sun filtered in through the curtains, then throw away after breakfast – they were just to pass the time, fill some kind of void inside her. She never loved them. Some of them loved her, though. The unlucky few, who fell for her well-practiced pick-up lines and inescapable charisma, they fell for her like leaves fall in the autumn, and Alex was the kid who stepped all over them just to hear them crunch.

God, she loved breaking hearts, in some sick and twisted little way; she was so enthralled with the feeling of, for once, being the brick and not the window pane. But when she looks at Piper, she doesn't crave the destruction or the crying or the sense of control that tearing someone in two fills her with. No, she craves busy weekdays spent safe in the knowledge that she's going home to someone who wants her, wild weekends that they won't regret the next morning even when their heads are pounding and their stomachs are churning, the taste of Piper's skin when it's covered in a thin sheen of post-coital heat and the sounds she makes when she cums; the feeling that nothing she's lost in the past can get better than what she has right now. Piper Chapman herself is a craving Alex Vause can't seem to satiate at present; her agonizing, excruciating _need_ for her outweighing that of any drug or past habit she's ever had to give up.

Maybe this is love.

If so, then love, to Alex, is the epitome of bittersweet. It's like having butterflies, but they sting like bees. There is a feeling of weightlessness, and then there is pain – the exquisite pain of wanting someone so unattainable. It hurts because no, she isn't good enough for Piper. But there's a tiny twinge of courage that hits her somewhere deep because yes, she wants to be.

* * *

><p>Polly returns not long afterwards, unceremoniously forcing her way through the crowds with a scowl. "You would not believe the size of the fucking queue for the bathroom, it's a miracle I didn't pee all over myself, I swear." It's worrying how long it takes her to notice Alex's presence beside her, but when she does, the look on her face is priceless.<p>

"Alex, this is my friend Polly," Piper begins by way of introduction; anything to stop her friend from gawking in disbelief. "Polly, this is Alex."

"Hi," Alex nods, lifting her glasses on top of her head in a way that makes Piper have to bite back an embarrassingly audible moan.

"Ah, so you're that patient Piper never shuts up about?" Polly smirks, having regained her composure and sobered up surprisingly quickly.

_Fuck_ _you, Pol._

"She's just joking!" The blonde interjects, mortified. "Because of the whole confidentiality thing, of course, I mean, I can't tell anyone anything. I haven't said anything."

"She talks about me, huh?" Alex ignores Piper's incessant rambling, playing along in an attempt to get a rise out of her therapist.

"Oh, it's all good things, I promise." Polly smiles sweetly, with an evil glint in her eyes. She glances at her watch, face contorting in mock horror, "oh crap, look at the time! Pete will be wondering where I am. It was nice to meet you at last, Alex. Pipes, call me."

Polly leaves so abruptly it'd almost be comical if it wasn't for the situation she left behind, blissfully aware of the awkwardness that has descended in her wake. Alex lowers her glasses once more, trying her hardest to resist the urge to joke about the silence. Piper is furious; she knows Polly meant nothing by it, but she's worried Alex won't see it in the same way. It didn't take her long to realise Alex Vause is someone who rather enjoys being an enigma wrapped in a riddle.

"Look, Alex-"

"You talk about me?" The brunette inquires, a timid smile playing on her lips.

"No, of course not. Polly was just kidding, obviously." Piper's futile attempts at laughing it off don't go unnoticed, and the brunette desperately tries to think of ways to get more information, until something clicks.

"But she knows me? She knew I was one of your patients?"

"Okay, yes, _maybe_ I mentioned you once. Or twice. Fine, a few times." Alex smirks so wide it almost hurts. "But I promise you, it's not about anything you've told me." She tries to sound sincere but her words slur a little, and when she tries to shift in her seat she nearly slips off it again.

"Okay, Pipes, I think it's home time for you," the brunette laughs, catching Piper before she hits the ground and trying in vain to help her balance in ridiculously high heels. "You telling your little buddies about my crappy life never crossed my mind, but I am kinda intrigued about what made you mention me '_a few times'_, do I really have that much of a hold on you?" She's joking, of course, but that doesn't make it sound any less serious when it leaves her lips. Piper almost says something _really _fucking sincere then, and the response that runs around her brain scares her a little, but she decides against it.

"What did you call me?"

"What? Nothing."

They're both standing now. Well, Alex is standing. Piper's currently leaning against the bar in fear that her legs won't be able to support her properly if she lets go. It is then that they both realise Alex's hand is still on her waist from where she held her up when she fell. Alex doesn't move. Piper doesn't want her to.

"You called me _Pipes_."

It's not like it's a big deal, even Polly calls her 'Pipes', it's just weird coming from someone else. It feels different – no, _better_ – coming from Alex.

"Did I?" _Yes, you know you did. _"Sorry."

"No," She can feel herself leaning into Alex's touch a little, basking in the warmth it spreads across her entire body. "I like it. It's cute."

A sudden rush of want mixed with need envelopes the pair, and for a second Piper thinks Alex might kiss her; the hand gripping her waist squeezing a little, then relinquishing all together. She doesn't know whether to feel disappointed of relieved when Alex looks away to down the remainder of her drink. All of this – the scenario, the way she feels, Alex's smile – screams _danger _like a signpost in her head, warning her that the edge of the cliff is near and she should stay back.

"Ready to go?"

Alex doesn't wait for a reply, deciding to grab Piper's wrist and pull her though the hordes of people in the room, weaving their way between all the different bodies surrounding them. It's hot inside the crowd, _too _hot, and Piper suddenly can't wait to get outside and embrace the bitter chill of empty streets at night. Alex's grip makes her feel a little lightheaded as they take slow steps towards the exit, her heels dragging a little as she stumbles her way through the door.

Once outside, the extent of Piper's intoxication hits her like a ton of bricks, the innocence and perfection of this moment not lost on either of them. The street is almost completely empty except for a few people standing around outside smoking, the sky a clear dark blue, illuminated in specks by an astonishing amount of stars with the moon at the center of it all, casting a ghostly glow to drape across everything in its path. The breeze is light but constant, causing their arms to erupt in goosebumps. Alex's confidence unexpectedly soars when she feels Piper shiver under her touch, and she snakes her hand down from her wrist and onto her hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing gently.

"Come on," Alex utters just above a whisper, careful not to ruin the moment. "Let's go find a cab or something."

And so Piper allows herself to be led down an abundance of desolate roads and alleyways, their destination yet undecided, and they walk for what feels like hours, but realistically couldn't have been more than about thirty minutes. For the first time in what seems like forever, Alex is content. She's comforted by the numbness that alcohol provides, the silence that surrounds the two of them, and the feel of Piper's skin against her own. Their hands are still clasped together when they finally hail a cab, though by that point Piper's steadiness and balance began to dwindle, so she found her other hand gripping the crook of Alex's arm softly in a futile attempt to remain upright. It isn't until they're seated comfortably in the backseat do they relinquish their hold on each other, and the sinking feeling is mutual when they eventually remember who they are and all the things they can never be.

They are a recovering drug addict and a therapist. They can never be anything.

Piper gets dropped off first at Alex's request, (there's no way she can make it from the cab to her apartment without some sort of support) and the ride is a lot shorter than they were both expecting (or hoping. They're not sure which.)

"Do you wanna come in?" The blonde asks as they reach the doorstep, sounding a lot more sober than she has all night.

"Nah, probably not a good idea."

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

Piper looks up and gazes at her expectantly, the glint lacing her cerulean eyes daring and challenging simultaneously. It takes everything in the brunette to turn her down, as she can already feel her fingers aching for the feel of Piper's skin against her own once again. Alex Vause is not often right, but tonight she's trying her hardest to be. If it were up to her, she'd stand on the doorstep in the freezing cold with her devastatingly flawless therapist all night, but she can see Piper's teeth chattering a little with the cold and it isn't until now that she realises the blonde's jacket isn't the thickest piece of material in the world.

"Night, _Pipes_." Alex winks.

Piper giggles in response. "Night."

Alex is barely able to graze the cab door handle before she hears Piper's voice behind her again.

"Wait, Al!" She spins around on the spot, faced with a view of the blonde halfway through the front door. "Text me when you get home. Just so I know you made it."

"I'm not sure how many things could possibly happen to me during the short car ride from your apartment to mine, but yes, I will text you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Piper knows full well that despite the request being an odd one, Alex will definitely stick to her promise. She also knows that, of course, nothing will happen to her on her way home. She just wasn't ready to say goodbye; instantly missing Alex's eyes on her the second they stopped looking.

Piper finds it's easier to breathe when they're together.

* * *

><p>Sleep didn't come as quickly as she was hoping it would as she tosses and turns relentlessly in her large bed searching for some kind of comfort. She fell onto her mattress the second she reached her bedroom, her clothes and shoes discarded haphazardly around her apartment on her way through. She's more alert now than she has been all night, but a happy buzz runs through her veins and a pounding reverberates around her head. This is gonna hurt in the morning.<p>

Just as her eyes flutter shut in an attempt to let sleep overtake her, the text tone on her phone ricochets and bounces around the room, the screen lighting up the space beside her bed. She gazes at the screen despite the excruciating pain it inflicts on her exhausted eyes, finding quiet solace in the name and message she is faced with.

_Alex Vause –_  
><em>As expected, I made it home without dying. I hope you don't feel too bad tomorrow. See you Wednesday.<em>

It is short and sweet, but it's _something._

And it's that something that something that finally relieves Piper of her consciousness and allows her to drown into a peaceful slumber.

She dreams of margaritas and dark, winding roads.

She dreams of Alex being the light at the end of it all.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This has taken me an absolute age to update, I know, I suck, I'm sorry. I've never been this busy in my life, and this chapter was also a bitch to write. I think it went okay, though I couldn't for the life of me come up with a good line to end it with so I just gave up in the end. Again, most of this was written in the early hours of the morning so I apologise for any mistakes I may have made. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, these updates wouldn't happen at all if it wasn't for your support, so please do continue with them, they really do make me a very happy little fangirl indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>Six;<strong>

It is Wednesday when Piper talks about Alex again. She tries her hardest not to think about her after _that_ night at the bar, but her efforts are fruitless; the brunette's eyes and voice permeate her every thought during the days and nights that followed, replaced swiftly by the notion that none of this can possibly end well.

She meets Polly during her break, tucked away in the dimly lit corner of a little coffee shop a few blocks away from the hospital, the two of them seeking instant refuge from the rain pummeling with an almost animalistic force onto everything in its path. Piper feels just as gloomy as the sky looks; a depressing blanket of dark grey smothering the atmosphere. Polly is insufferable, as always, and looking exceptionally pleased with herself following her "great escape" (as she called it) on Friday night.

"So what happened between you two when I left?"

The problem with being friends with Polly for so long is that she knows a lot. She knows that Piper is terrified of making the first move, knows how vulnerable she becomes when she gets attached to someone, knows how often she's had her heartbroken. Basically, she knows how much of a coward she is.

"Nothing happened." Piper replies with an irritated sigh.

Which is true. Nothing did.

So why does she feel like her whole world has shifted?

Everything has this strange hue about it, the same way it usually does when she isn't in Alex's presence; everything looks a little darker and is a little blander to the touch. For weeks upon weeks, all the time she'd spent with her had been within the confines of some empty little room with walls that have heard more heartfelt confessions than the most experienced priests, but as soon as she sees her elsewhere it fucks her entire universe up. Admittedly, she was practically besotted with the idea of Alex as soon as she walked in on that first session, but now, she's so much more _real_.

Piper is used to people being broken. It's her job to fix them, after all. She is used to vulnerability and confusion and hopelessness. But Alex Vause is so much more than that. She isn't a victim; she is the battlefield after the war has ended, the party after everyone has gone home, the ashes after a fire. She is simultaneously a light breeze and a calamitous tornado. Damaged people are dangerous, they have nothing left to lose.

Piper Chapman, on the other hand, enjoys the simple things in life. She likes sunsets and margaritas and quiet time. Always has, probably always will. Except now, the pleasure she finds in such things have a very clear cut-off point. Sunsets are still sunsets are they are still beautiful, but she can't help but know they'd be a lot more breathtaking if she could watch the colours of them dance across Alex's face. Cocktails would taste infinitely better poured from between her red lips than a glass. The quiet would feel a lot more serene if the brunette was next to her enjoying it too.

"Nothing _can _happen. It would feel weird."

That's a lie. Everything about this feels so normal and right it almost scares her. She knows she shouldn't feel like this, knows Alex probably doesn't feel the same, but she doesn't _care_ right now. And that's worrying, too. Because Piper Chapman is cautious. She is collected. She has her shit together.

But, fuck, is she losing her grip on things right now.

"If the circumstances were different, would you give things a go?" Polly doesn't tire easily when it comes to Piper's love life. She is relentless.

"Of course I would. But the circumstances aren't different."

"Do you love her?"

That's what it comes down to really: love, and how it's both the sweetest and cruelest thing that could happen to a person.

Loving someone like Alex is an accurate example of the cruel side of such an exquisite emotion. There is no easy way to love a woman who hates herself, there's no instruction manual that explains how to give her everything when she feels like she doesn't deserve it. But, God, does Piper want to. She wants so badly to give Alex everything she needs that she can almost feel the desire like a fist clenching around her heart, constricting the blood flow and making it practically impossible to function.

"It's complicated, Pol."

"_Do you love her?_"

The question is more forceful this time – harsher, like a punch to the gut. And it's then that she accepts it. Piper wants Alex in the most all-consuming, suffocating way. She doesn't want to break her down into smaller bits that are easier to swallow; she wants to consume her whole, get lost in her everything. She wants her in the same way everyone craves to be wanted. She has an overriding desire for her mornings and her nights and every second in between; needs her smile and frown and the way her eyebrows raise when she smirks.

She wants her when she is a still day. She will still want her when she is a hurricane.

"Yes," _weak, futile_. "I love her." _More certain_.

That sentiment goes down the same way all secrets do when they are finally revealed; there is fear, and then there is dizzying freedom.

* * *

><p>Alex Vause spends a disgusting amount of her time intoxicated, and right now is no exception. She's always been a lot better at drinking than stopping, to be honest. Recovery is no easy thing – in one substance's absence, another must fill the void. And what is a bottle of vodka to a soul full of sobering thoughts anyway? Alcohol doesn't hurt, doesn't give her any sort of rush. It numbs, but it doesn't erase.<p>

Heroin was the best girlfriend she ever had; drugs can't wake up one morning and tell you they don't love you anymore, they can't die and leave you all alone. But she feels it, now they're gone, she feels it like a difficult break-up. The bed seems too big when she gets into it with a sober mind, and sometimes she wakes up in the morning and it takes her a while to remember that the heroin isn't sitting there patiently waiting for her to get her fix.

Drugs become addictive the day you decide to use it to fill the gaps in your heart instead of using it for short entertainment, and it's not like she can't afford it, she's got more money than sense. Despite currently being completely jobless, her years of working for the cartel have left her with enough money to easily tide her over for the rest of her days. It's not like she has anyone else to provide for either, she is both the king and queen of her own little kingdom. But, then again, she's also the dragon that comes along and burns it all to the fucking ground.

She doesn't even realise what day it is at first as she wanders aimlessly around her surprisingly extravagant apartment, just about getting through the morning with the aid of solely vodka and cigarettes, but then Nicky calls her and she regains a semblance of consciousness around 3pm.

"Where the fuck have you been, Vause? I haven't heard a thing from you since Friday. You spent all this time moping because I left with that other chick and not you?"

Moping? _Yes._ Because of Nicky? _Hell fucking no_.

"You wish. No, I've been busy." Her slurring voice doesn't feel like it belongs to her; the words sounding a little like she's underwater and someone is shouting from above.

"You're never busy anymore, cut the bullshit. Have you been drinking?"

"No! Well, yeah, a few, maybe."

"You do know you have therapy today, right? You can't turn up drunk, you dick."

"Oh shit, forgot about that." she laughs. "Well I was drinking last time Piper saw me so I doubt it makes a difference."

"What? You've gone to therapy wasted before?"

"No, she was at the bar on Friday." Alex says it like it's the most obvious answer in the world, and if she listens close enough she can almost hear the thoughts whirring around Nicky's head on the other end of the phone line.

"What?! Fuck sake, Vause, you know I've been dying to meet her, why didn't you tell me?"

"You were a bit preoccupied at the time. Plus, I don't want you ruining my chances, do I?"

Right now is probably the most sober Alex has felt all week so far, but that doesn't last long, because she's pouring another drink as she speaks, the strong liquid calming her senses more and more with each long sip she takes.

"So you're admitting you like her? Alex Vause, known for her heart of stone, has actual feelings for someone?"

"You need to stop jumping to conclusions. And my heart is not made of stone."

"You got feelings," Nicky replies, the smug grin on her face almost evident in her tone. "Love feelings."

They stay talking for a while, because Alex is drunk and lonely and a little helpless, but mostly because Nicky _knows_ she feels this way. It's Nicky who keeps talking, keeps asking cracking jokes and trying to make her laugh. They've always been close, but Nicky knows that Alex needs someone now more than ever, and she just isn't enough to keep the brunette on the straight and narrow herself. That's why she keeps pushing her to go to therapy, get the help she needs; if she can't keep Alex clean forever, she'll sure as fuck make sure someone else does.

"How are you getting there?"

"Obviously driving isn't an option, I'll catch a cab."

"Bullshit, I'm taking you."

"There is really no need, I promise I'll go."

"Oh, no, I'm not worried about that. I want all the gory details about Friday night, and it's a lot easier to bully the fuck out of you in person."

At the end of the day, if they weren't best friends, Alex would probably fucking detest Nicky.

"You're an asshole." The brunette laughs, heading back to her bedroom to get ready, drunkenly stumbling slightly on her way. What a stupid fucking idea this is already turning out to be.

"Yeah, I am, but I'm also an asshole who's giving you a ride, so shut the fuck up and be ready."

* * *

><p>The journey is short, but filled to the brim with questions that make Alex's head spin.<p>

_So what happened at the bar?_

_Is she actually an interesting person or just hot as fuck? _

_Decent rack? _

_Do you love her?_

She doesn't answer a single one, just laughs in a distant sort of way and keeps staring at the road ahead, both comforted and anxious in the knowledge that with each turn of a corner and passing of a green light, she's that little bit closer to Piper. It's actually pretty irritating just how easily the blonde has made an impact on her, as she knows for certain no one has ever awakened these feelings of both excitement and nervousness in her before at the simple thought of just _seeing _them.

The alcohol isn't doing its job anymore. She isn't numb. She's feeling everything.

She feels the loneliness as she walks down empty corridors on her way to Piper's office, feels the dread bubble up in her stomach when she knocks on the door, feels the shivers run up her spine when the blonde's face lights up a little as she enters the room and sits down opposite her.

"Well, fancy seeing you here." Alex begins, suddenly extremely aware of how much she had to drink before she got here, what with the way she practically fell into the room and collapsed onto her chair.

"You've been drinking, haven't you?" Piper doesn't even blink; eyes harboring neither disappointment nor surprise, but interest with a hint of concern lurking deep within cerulean irises.

"Ah, fuck. Should I be concerned that you're already able to read me like a book?"

"I'm your therapist, it's my job to read you." Piper laughs and Alex feels it in her veins.

"Touché." Everything is quiet, except for the sound of gentle raindrops tapping on every exposed surface outside, and Alex takes a moment to look at the woman in front of her and allows it to tear her in two.

This is the same Piper she was with on Friday night. She looks the same, sounds the same, yet work-Piper is different to bar-Piper in so many ways. Alex can't hold work-Piper's hand, can't grab her waist when she stumbles, can't walk aimlessly through empty streets at midnight with her and can't marvel at the way her laugh is without a shadow of a doubt the best sound she's ever heard.

"So what are we talking about today?"

Alex is nowhere near drunk enough to struggle holding a conversation, if anything, she's just drunk enough to get fully engaged in one. Piper knows that, of course.

"I want to talk about your mum."

The brunette almost falters then, but she keeps up her façade of carelessness for a little while longer.

"On one condition…" she slurs a little, pointing a daring finger at her therapist, "I will answer all your questions about my mum if you answer a few of mine."

Piper's eyebrows raise in surprise, arms crossing over her chest and her face adopting an expression of determination at the bizarre and rather alarming request.

"Deal. Me first," she pretends to ponder for a moment despite knowing exactly what she wants to ask. "How did she die?"

"Brain tumour. My turn!" The words flow with such ease when she doesn't think about them, refusing to worry about being exposed or vulnerable in this moment. "Why do you really do this? I've seen enough therapists in my time to know there's something different about the way you do all this shit."

That's when the quiet hits again, and the blonde transforms from someone who is collected into someone who has seen some things in her life she'd do anything to forget about. In that moment, Alex sees Piper go from strong woman to terrified child in less than three seconds.

"My older brother committed suicide when I was a teenager." A deep breath, a smile that says _I'm okay to talk about it_ but trembles at the corners. "I was the one who found him."

She stops for a moment, and Alex suddenly feels like the worst person in the world. She understands how it feels seeing someone alive one minute and dead the next, knows the excruciating pain of a family death like an old friend. That's the thing. You never get used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, the shock and helplessness and catastrophe.

"How old were you?" she asks, not expecting an answer, just doing anything to fill the empty silence that surrounds the two of them.

"Seventeen." Piper states, looking anywhere except Alex's eyes, knowing that one look would turn her to mush. "A really fucking long time ago, I know, but shit like that just stays with you."

Suddenly she stands, turning her back to her patient and staring intently at the raindrops chasing each other down the large window at the back of the room. She sighs so deeply Alex witnesses her shoulders rise from the effort of it, the exhalation of breath fogging up the glass slightly. The brunette stands also, taking delicate steps towards Piper like she's literally stepping on eggshells around her.

"I'm so sorry, Pipes, I had no idea."

Soft, shaking fingertips slide down the blonde's forearm, stopping at her wrist as Alex forces her to face her. When she relents, spinning on the spot, there are tears building in her eyes.

"Since when did the roles reverse? You should be fucking crying, not me." She releases a watery chuckle, wiping the liquid away with the back of her hand as it threatens to spill down her cheeks.

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone." Alex smiles reassuringly.

She looks so small and fragile in that moment that Alex can't help but envelope herself around her, one arm winding around her waist, the other moving upwards a little so deft fingertips can draw comforting, calculated patterns on her back. Piper's face finds the crook of her neck, shuddering breaths fanning across Alex's exposed collarbones with each sob she emanates. It's wrong, but something about it feels so _fucking _right. Oh, how Alex wishes they could spend the rest of her days quietly entwined like this; the feel of Piper's soft lips ghosting across her neck as she moves her head for comfort and the way her arms wrap around her body with equal intensity.

The shift in the atmosphere is almost palpable, the emotions within them stirring with such fervour it's a wonder they can't feel each other's pulses speed up to an alarming pace; twin hearts pounding at the same time to the same beat, each filled to the very brim with what feels like every emotion under the sun: fear, comfort, anxiousness, _love_.

Alex feels Piper shift slightly in her embrace, relinquishing her grip and taking a step back, breaths shallow as if she'd just run a marathon. She looks up, bright eyes locking with slightly darker ones with a gaze so intense it _burns_, and she smiles. It is comfort and relief and serenity all rolled into one tug of the lips and Alex finds herself unable to look away. She feels like she may spontaneously combust, what with the close proximity and the way Piper's body is still pressed against hers in just the right way, and she's looking at her like she's the answer to every question she's never found the answer to.

An unexpected wave of courage washes over her, possibly aided by her ebbing state of intoxication, as the she dips her head ever so slightly to press a feather-light kiss to Piper's lips. It starts off slow, and Alex isn't sure if the pounding she can feel in her chest is her heart or her therapist's, but she doesn't care, because her hand is tangled in blonde hair now and all conscious thought is thrown out the window when she feels Piper pulling her closer when she's almost certain she should be pushing her away. The kiss lights a spark inside them that eventually explodes into a ball of flames; a fire neither one of them wishes to extinguish any time soon.

That is, until the sound of thunder rumbles through dark clouds and a flash of lightning soon follows, casting an eerie glow throughout the entirety of the office at an alarming rate, bringing the pair back to the present with a jolt.

Alex's face turns a deathly pale shade as she jumps slightly at the realisation of what has just occurred. Piper's face is infinitely softer, a little like she's just woken up from a pleasant dream, until it hits her like a train too.

"Fuck," she whispers, hand reaching up to tame mussed, blonde locks.

"I'm sorry," Alex replies hurriedly, a thousand apologies running around her brain, none of them good enough to say out loud. "I'm so sorry."

For what feels like the hundredth time in those short few months, Alex Vause finds herself rushing out of her therapist's office with so much shame in her gut she can't even bring herself to turn around and bid the blonde farewell, her heavy footfalls turning into a sprint on the polished floor of the hospital as she races down endless corridors seeking her escape.

She leaves behind a broken blonde, whose heart pounds so excruciatingly hard against her ribcage it's a wonder it doesn't burst out of her chest and land with a messy thud at her feet. It is then, when the door slams and she is left alone with nothing but an empty silence, that Piper Chapman understands why storms are named after people.

* * *

><p>I can't promise when the next update will be, but I won't be giving up on this, so please just be patient. Thanks for reading xo<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is a disgustingly short chapter purely because it's only just occurred to me how long it's been since I last updated. I know pretty much exactly what's going to happen next and because I've finished college for Christmas it really shouldn't take too long for it to be written, I just wanted to upload something now before I get angry Asks begging me to update _again_. x

* * *

><p><span><strong>Seven;<strong>

"Wow."

"I know."

"You fucked up pretty bad there."

"Thanks for the support, Nichols, I appreciate it."

The sarcasm is laced with irritation, hinting at the suppressed anger residing deep within her. Alex is a fuck up. She knows that. But this is on a whole different level.

She is angry at herself for being such a dick, angry at Piper for being too good for her, and even a little angry at Nicky, just for being Nicky, really.

She's also angry at the world, and human existence, and the way all the chemicals in her body balance (or unbalance, as the case may be) to make her feel such things; of all the many different chemical combinations and reactions that take place inside her, it's just her luck for them to combine in a way that creates this particular emotion. She'd take anger and guilt and helplessness any day, but love…

Love overrides all of those until she begins to forget how she felt before she dived headfirst into the whirlwind of blonde hair, blue eyes and Wednesdays at 6pm.

In the end, Alex is vulnerable for the first time in a long time. She doesn't want to hurt Piper. She doesn't want Piper to hurt her. She doesn't want to open up to her, just to watch her leave. But this is the very condition of existence: to embrace presence, means to accept the risk of absence.

"You fuck up a lot, though."

"_Seriously? _Are you just gonna sit there and kick me while I'm down?"

"No," Nicky laughs and Alex wants to punch her. "I mean, you fuck up a lot, but you know that. You're okay with that. So it doesn't matter."

"Um, it kinda fucking does matter this time?"

"You fuck up so much but you always try to resolve your fuck ups somehow. You fucked up with hard drugs, so you don't do hard drugs anymore. You fucked up with relationships, so now you don't bother with them-"

"So you're saying I fucked up with Piper, and now I should stop going to therapy?"

"Let me finish! Your way of resolving things is always to run away from the things you've fucked up. You stopped doing heroin? Great. Now you fucking drink and smoke a shit load of pot. You don't do relationships anymore? Good for you. Now you're fucking lonely." Nicky states, sounding strangely wise despite the lit joint resting between her lips. "What I'm saying is, maybe this time you shouldn't run away from it. She kissed you back, right?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't change things."

"What, she kisses all her patients back when they kiss her then, yeah?"

"It doesn't change the fact I ran away straight afterwards!"

"Yeah, well, that was a dick move, even coming from you." She passes the half-smoked joint to the brunette, who gladly accepts. "By not going, you're just making it even worse. Have you even contacted her to tell her you can't make the sessions?"

"What excuse will I use? _'Sorry I can't make therapy today, since I kissed you I can't help but worry you hate me, and it's also made me like you even more than I did before.' _Na, doesn't sound too great."

Alex takes a long drag from the thick joint, inhaling deep and slow until she can feel the smoke coil up in the crevices of her lungs. She holds her breath in for as long as possible, enhancing its effect. The smoke billows from between her lips in the form of perfect rings that intertwine with each other as they fade and contort. Her mind clears instantly as the thick white cloud turns to nothing before her eyes. She finds that happiness is a little like that too; one minute it's everywhere, the next it's gone.

"So you're not going?"

"I'm not going, no. It's much more fun running away from my problems than confronting them, let me tell you."

"She might be worried about you. I mean, fuck, even I'm a bit worried about you."

"She's not worried about me."

"And how do you know that?"

"Girls like her don't think about girls like me, it's not in their nature."

"What, straight girls? See I told you, they'll fuck you up every time!"

"Oh no, she's not straight, I'm sensing some serious sapphic vibes. Anyway, why are _you_ worried?" Alex asks incredulously, taking another fleeting drag before passing it back.

"I miss the old heartless Vause who'd bring a different girl home every night and then give me every gory detail the next morning. What is it about Piper that fucks you up so bad? I've never seen you like this before, you don't do feelings."

_A shrug of the shoulders._ "And now you can see why."

_A nod of the head._ "And now I can see why."

* * *

><p>Alex wasn't lying, she really didn't go to therapy.<p>

For two weeks.

Two whole, empty weeks that left Piper wishing she'd never even met her.

Just under half a year ago, Piper was satisfied with her life. She was content being alone, mostly because relationships had never really been her forte, but also because she didn't know what she was missing.

But now she knows, and it's killing her.

She dreams a lot more now, thinks a lot. She thinks so much that even the quietest of rooms are filled with a million voices screaming at her in unison.

Piper's almost certain her lips haven't stopped tingling since Alex kissed them, and her brain hasn't stopping thinking about her since, well, before any kiss. She replays the sound of heavy rainfall and the image of slightly darker eyes boring into her own on a loop until it's almost like she's back there, feeling Alex's body pressed up so tightly against her it is both highly inappropriate and overwhelmingly intoxicating. This thought alone leaves her feeling equal parts terrified and dizzy, so much so she finds herself craving the brunette's presence more than ever.

The second Wednesday is painful. By that point, considering she hasn't been involved in any form of communication with Alex, she already knows she isn't going to turn up. That doesn't stop her holding onto the tiny sliver of hope that still resides in the crevices of her heart, as she faces her 5 o'clock patient with all the forced ease of a feather in the breeze. She tries her hardest to act like there isn't a war breaking out inside of her, like she can't feel endless gunfire rattling through her bones.

Her 5 o'clock on a Wednesday is a girl called Lucy whose eyes look startlingly like Alex's, though not as clouded with helplessness. Piper pays attention in a way that is unlike most adults when a younger person is talking; she pays attention in the way all teenage girls want to be paid attention to, because she knows what it is like to feel invisible when her little world is crumbling. Piper has a few teenage patients, and she will probably always be in awe of how well they cope with the various things they're battling with in life. She talks to her teens like they're adults, treats them no differently to her older patients, because she _knows _mental illnesses don't come with age, _knows_ that emotional trauma doesn't wait until you're old enough to handle it. It springs upon you like a predator on its prey, and it feels interminable whether you're fifteen or fifty.

Lucy has crippling anxiety as well as depression, and for the first time in her life, Piper can actually relate to the level of uneasiness her patient feels.

"Aren't I supposed to be the worrier here?" The young redhead asks.

That's the problem with over-thinkers, they often notice pretty much everything if they analyze hard enough.

"What?"

"I've been here for little under an hour and you haven't stopped shaking, you're like a little leaf on the sidewalk." She laughs. "What's up?"

"I'm not going to burden you with my problems." The blonde sighs, stretching her arms to the point of pain in the hope it'll shake off the nervousness ricocheting within her.

"Oh, please do, I'm bored of talking about my own."

"It's just work stuff, no big deal."

"Is it a patient? Are you nervous about seeing them or something?"

Piper doesn't respond, instead toying with her pen and scribbling indecipherable notes in her work diary, pretending she hadn't heard the question.

"C'mon, Piper, details! God, I never want to tell you anything but I still have to, now it's your turn."

"I _can't_ tell you anything, confidentiality and all that."

"I don't want to know what they're here for, or even their name, but something about them is bothering you and I don't think that's normal. I know you see Crazy Eyes before me, is it her? Has she threatened to kill you or something?"

The blonde sighs, knowing now there's no way to turn back. "Yes, it's a patient. But no, it's not Suzanne, and nobody's threatened to kill me."

"Then what is it?"

"I really shouldn't be talking about this with you-"

"Wait, look at me." Lucy orders, a hint of intrigue lacing her tone. Piper looks up, confused. "Oh my God."

"What now?" She laughs incredulously, and is surprised by how natural it sounds.

"I know that look," the young girl shakes her head, feigning pity. When her therapist doesn't respond, she continues. "What's he like?"

_Ah, teenagers and the conclusions they jump to._

"It's not a guy."

It goes quiet for a few seconds after that, though it feels like minutes and it takes everything in Piper not to laugh at the look on her patient's face at this revelation. She knows she probably shouldn't talk to a patient about her love life, but _fuck _Polly is driving her insane with all of this Alex bullshit at the moment, it's like the woman feeds off the knowledge that everyone else's lives aren't as complete as hers. And besides, a patient is what got her into this mess, maybe a patient is what she needs to help her out a little. Lucy is incredibly mature for her age, and majority of the time, Piper forgets this person in front of her has only been on the Earth for a grand total of seventeen years.

"Woah," she gasps. "Okay… Wasn't expecting that. So you're a… You know…"

"Sorta, yeah. Problem?"

"Nah, it's your life, not mine. Continue."

"But it's messed up, everything's just going really wrong. Something happened and I haven't seen her since, and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, you know what to do." Lucy adopts a daring expression, and Piper's unease returns in a wave of dread that makes her audibly sigh. "If she won't come to you, go to her."

Now, Piper knows taking advice from a mentally ill teenager probably isn't the best idea, but the idea appeals to her somehow.

If she goes to Alex's apartment, she can't run away.

She has her address on her file.

_She can see her again._

Two weeks is an awfully long time when you're in love, that much has become clear to the blonde recently.

There are few things in life so beautiful they hurt: raindrop ripples in lakes, the sound of crisp leaves in winter, the sea of stars that appear when you're miles away from the neon lights of the city, summer sunrise breaking through the clouds, all the phases of the moon, and the extent to which Piper Chapman is in love with Alex Vause.

She doesn't give up on many things in life, and this is no exception.

By no means will she ever give up on someone she can't possibly envision herself living without.

* * *

><p>Another AN: this was written very quickly, I can only apologise. _ALSO_, thanks for over 100 reviews, I'm buzzin!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I recently received an Ask saying that I should add more angst before I get them together... Oh, bless your heart, be careful what you wish for! This fic is nowhere near finished, I hope you enjoy the false sense of security I'm providing you with at the moment. Just a little reminder: I'm also hotvause on Twitter, you guys don't have to indirect 'the writer of Bloodstream' on there, just me lmao. I've got a lot going on at the moment so updates will be all over the place, and I rushed the fuck out of this chapter, _BUT _this will never get abandoned, I promise you. Enjoy xo

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><p><span><strong>Eight;<strong>

There is a chill in the air when Piper finds herself at Alex's door later that evening, a bitter coldness that seeps through her skin right to her bones, leaving her unsure as to whether the shaking in her limbs is down to the temperature or the enormity of what she's about to do. She didn't go home after leaving work, instead deciding to come here straight away before she realises how fucking dumb this idea is. If she doesn't face up to her feelings today, in this moment, then she knows she probably never will. If not now, when, right?

Time had moved so quickly since she'd made her decision and left the hospital. She waited until 7pm, still holding on to that tiny sliver of hope that Alex might've come to her senses and would eventually turn up, smirk and all. Alas, she did not. So Piper took it upon herself to try and do the right thing for once. She was in such a state of erratic panic that she couldn't stop looking at the clock ticking by, proving to her that time doesn't wait around for anybody. She'd purposely driven round the streets in circles just to calm herself and make time go a little slower, but it was futile, because now she's here, outside the brunette's surprisingly impressive apartment, and she's rooted to the spot. Everything is a little sad and weird and she just wants to hear Alex's voice again, so much that it causes an emptiness in her gut that hurts. She feels a bit stupid, really, because she knows the depth of this attachment is completely insane, but right now she's struggling to bring herself to care. She just wants to make things right, because a life without Alex feels nothing but wrong.

Piper lifts her tightly clenched fist to knock on the door, but stops before there's any chance of a sound. She thinks about the kiss, oh _god_, that fucking kiss. She wants to know what it meant to Alex, wants to know if it was a spur of the moment thing or if she'd actually wanted it to happen. Mostly, she wants to know if Alex still thinks about it too.

It was probably nothing, but it felt like the world.

* * *

><p>Alex is hiding.<p>

She's currently curled up her couch, with a half-smoked cigarette in one hand and a full glass of wine in the other. She's sober, but she doesn't particularly want to be.

Therapy is something she's known deep down she's needed for a while, it was just difficult finding a therapist who could get through to her. On reflection, she was probably better off with therapists who didn't have any impact on her than she is with the one she's got now. No one has ever had this much of an impact on Alex.

She doesn't see this as a good thing.

The phrase _it's not you, it's me_ springs to mind every now and then. It's horrifically cliché, it's something everyone says when the road gets tough, but this time it's true. Piper really isn't the problem. It's Alex.

It isn't that they are therapist and patient, or that their relationship should ideally stay purely professional, the main issue here is Alex's unwillingness to be someone who needs someone else.

And it scares her, because Alex needs Piper more than she's ever needed anyone else in her entire life.

A timid knock at her apartment door shakes her out of her musings, and her heart is pounding with a feeling of dread as she stubs her cigarette out in the ashtray beside her and takes calculated footsteps towards the threshold. She almost considers not answering at all, perfectly content staying locked up in her perpetual state of woe, but she relents when she takes a large swig of wine and a deep breath. The door swings open quicker than anticipated, and she comes face to face with the one person she's been dreading seeing most.

"Pipes," the brunette gasps slightly, surprise evident in her tone. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

The blonde's voice in monotonous as she consciously keeps her emotions in check. She's not sure what she's feeling; something that looks a lot like relief but hurts like longing. What she's seeing right now is something she never knew she needed to see so badly: Alex Vause in her natural habitat.

"Uh… Aren't _I_ supposed to come to _you_ for that?" The brunette tries to inject some humour, because it's all she knows how to do in a situation like this. Well, that and _run_.

"This isn't funny." It isn't, no, but what is – unfortunately – is the little smidgen of a tingle that runs up the length of her spine at the sound of her patient's voice, laced with its usual hint of confidence.

"I'm not laughing." She responds instantly, though there is a smirk lingering somewhere under a façade of seriousness.

Alex opens the door wider and allows the slightly shorter blonde to enter the apartment. When she looks at her, she is filled with so many different emotions that she finds it difficult to keep up with them.

Guilt, embarrassment, longing, _love_.

All of which are clear as day within Piper's eyes.

Piper Chapman has got eyes that make you feel like you're jumping off a cliff into the ocean when you look for too long; the same colour as the sea in a postcard someone sends you when they love you, but not enough to stay.

Everything about her whispers words so uncommon to Alex; words like _happiness _and _hope _and _whole_.

She hasn't felt whole for one measly second of her life. She is essentially a million broken pieces in human form.

Alex feels the word _broken _hit somewhere deep inside her, like it's a part of her. It's embedded in her DNA; the chaos and destruction that comes from being alone for so long. She's never had anything to lose from being reckless and uncalculated.

But now she does have something to lose. And she's not going to let it go without a fight.

She must admit, she didn't think it would come to this. She wants to play it cool, pretend it was because she was drunk and act like she doesn't think about the kiss every night before she falls asleep. But she can't do that. Because she can't even look at Piper without wanting to do it all over again.

"You could've called me," the blonde mumbles, breaking eye contact.

"I didn't know if you'd answer."

First lie.

"That's stupid, Alex. What happened was a mistake, it hasn't changed anything."

Another lie.

"Yes it has." Ah, finally, a bit of truth. "It's changed everything."

That's when they stop for a moment, and it feels like the world might implode, because it _has _changed everything. They're never going to be able to pretend it never happened. Deep down, neither of them want to forget it anyway.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Al." Piper's voice is almost pleading, but they both know it's an act.

"Maybe I want it to be."

There's a shrug and then silence.

It's like things are moving at a thousand miles an hour and neither of them can make it stop, it's only a matter of time before they crash. This whole situation is one big countdown to two possibilities: either Piper flees, or history repeats itself.

The blonde is quiet and still for a while, so Alex takes tentative steps towards her, not breaking eye contact once.

"I didn't kiss you just because I was drunk, Pipes."

There's a glimmer of hope that resides deep behind a thick layer of confusion in cerulean irises. "So why did you?"

"Same reason I do a lot of things I shouldn't," Alex gently tucks a strand of blonde hair behind Piper's ear, and the way her fingertips linger for a bit longer than they should doesn't go unnoticed. "Because I wanted to."

Piper feels a sinking feeling somewhere deep inside her when she takes a quick glance around the extravagant apartment she's currently standing by the doorway of. She can smell cigarette smoke and wine, but all she can see and feel is the sadness in Alex's eyes.

You see, Piper knows sadness. She knows it like that old friend you shared all your earliest memories with. The thing about sadness is that it never warns you that it will come back. You'll end up with an aching heart again, minutes after laughing, and it will feel like you found someone in your house; someone who you thought had left. Few things make her feel like that. Piper isn't a sad person. She is not broken, nor is she in need of any kind of fixing. But sometimes it creeps back up on her. Sadness is how she feels when she thinks of her brother, but is also what she feels when she wakes up after dreaming of Alex's hand back on her hip, holding her up. It is dreaming of Alex being in the darkness with her, but waking up alone, swallowed by it.

She feels the complete opposite when Alex's lips are suddenly on hers again, soft and sweet like she's scared it'll hurt.

It isn't forceful or passionate, it's barely there, but Piper pushes her away. She tells her to wait. She tells her it's not right, that this shouldn't be happening, that she can't let herself _feel _like this.

Alex agrees. It's hurting her too, the longing, the unexpected. She feels it like a punch to the jaw. Like driving a car at full speed and then realising the brakes don't work.

She tries to say _I'm sorry_ but it comes out as _please_.

So Piper pulls her back and they crash.

This time is different. This time it's like they're _drowning_. Alex feels every bite of lip and swipe of tongue like it's her first kiss. It is unpredictable and overwhelming and it's everything she never knew she needed to feel until it happened. She didn't know it was possible for something as simple as a kiss to evoke such tumultuous emotion within her, but this is far from simple. Really fucking far.

Their hands are everywhere; getting tangled up in hair, on top of clothes and against bare skin, fingertips trailing across collarbones and spines and jaws, both pushing and pulling, neither one ready to relinquish their hold on the other until they end up against a wall somewhere, Piper's legs wrapped around Alex's waist. She doesn't remember being lifted, but she doesn't care, because suddenly she's being carried to what she's guessing is Alex's bedroom, and before she can catch her breath she's falling onto the mattress.

They don't speak; words seem fruitless now, considering what events are unfolding. This is what being lost and then found feels like, the way Alex's lips feel against Piper's stomach when she kisses down her torso after all layers of fabric between them have been shed. The room is dark but she can see her eyes, green irises turning a few shades darker when Piper emits a moan that sounds like relief mixed with exquisite agony simultaneously.

Their lips connect once more, all rational thought leaving both their minds as they are swallowed whole by how it feels to just _be_. Bodies pressed so tightly together it's almost as if they can feel each other's rapid heartbeats, eyes hungry for each other when they break apart for air. It all becomes too much to handle, and she just _has _to tell her.

"I've never felt like this before." The brunette mumbles as butterfly kisses are spread across her neck and collarbones. Piper can feel her voice rumbling beneath the skin of her throat and it takes everything in her not to bite.

"Neither have I."

They don't want to forget this moment, this feeling right here. What it's like to have this closeness and connection and inability to focus on anything except each other. Every touch of fingertip and mouth is being etched into their minds, they'll be thinking about this for days, weeks, months even.

Piper will be forever in awe of how someone so troubled can be so gentle, what with how Alex's touch is so feather-light, until the blonde finds herself practically begging for some force behind her actions.

Her pleas are rewarded fairly swiftly, and _oh God_, she loses control of every atom of her body.

Later, she learns that nothing she's ever seen can compare to how Alex Vause looks when she comes undone.

The walls have fallen down and they are vulnerable, truly giving each other everything they have to offer.

And with each second that passes, each kiss and bite and moan, they can feel themselves falling a little bit more in love.

Sure, they have a lot to talk about, but when Alex tries to speak Piper shuts her up with a kiss; a promise of _tomorrow_, a silent plea that feels like _please don't ruin this, not tonight._

The patient falls asleep with a mind clouded with thoughts of how her world is finally falling into place, blissfully unaware of the storm that is inevitably heading their way.

The therapist stays awake because she can feel it approaching.

Alex Vause is a hurricane Piper Chapman can already feel herself getting lost in, and she can already see the destruction that will be left behind.

* * *

><p>AN: Smut isn't my forte, give me time. (And lots of reviews, thanks.)


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